Haymitch The 50th nightmare
by PeetaMellarksGirl
Summary: Haymitch Abernathys games.


The 50th Hunger Games.

Chapter 1-

I am standing in what I like to call the holding pens. It's Reaping Day. Chances are my names not going to be pulled out of the big glass ball, because I have only taken 3 tesserae. But then again, someone has to.

This year is a special Hunger Games because it's the Quarter Quell. The Quarter Quell is every twenty-five years to celebrate the beginning of the Games. It has all the regular features of the Hunger Games but more twists and turns. It's a reminder to the rebels that no matter how strong you are or how many people you have, you cannot overthrow the capitol and that the Dark Days should not be repeated.

A woman named Flanna Vixenor begins the Reaping ceremony by saying "Welcome, to the 50th Hunger Games! As I'm sure you all know this year is the Quarter Quell. That means that a special edition of the Hunger Games shall be played every 25 years and this year, one of the big twists is that twice as many tributes from each district will be sent to the Capitol as tributes and will play in the Hunger Games. So instead of pulling one name out of each Reaping Ball I pick two. Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be _ever _in your favour" her dazzling red hair seems to sparkle in the dull sunlight of district 12 and her 6 inch heels match the colour of her hair as she prances over to the reaping balls. I feel sick to my stomach as I watch he thin hand as it reaches into the girls reaping ball. Her unnaturally cheerful demeanour is still intact as she reads out the name of the first girl tribute. "Maysilee Donner! Our first tribute for this years Hunger Games!" The audience is silent. I am wondering where she is. "Maysilee? Are you there?" Maysilee. She's never spoken to me in the duration of my life, and I'm in love with her. Her beautiful blue eyes that sparkle whenever she smiles, her her shiny blonde hair which I daydream about running my fingers through it and playing with it all the time. But I'm just a boy from the Seam and her parents own the Sweetshop in the town square. I can't believe my eyes as the usually radiant Maysilee is slowly fumbling up the steps onto the stage where Flanna Vixenor stands, still way too cheerful. All the blood has been drained from her face and tears are rolling down her pale cheeks. Flanna reaches into the boys reaping ball to pick out the second of the 4 tributes. "Jayke Pearson" she says happily. A boy I've only seen around school a few times - I don't know his name but he is definitely familiar – walks up to the stage. He's blonde but it's a bit dirtier in colour than Maysilee's beautiful locks. The boy has grey eyes -so I think I may have seen him in the Seam before as that is a tell-tale sign he is from the Seam- and muted features. You can see in his eyes that he has immediately accepted his tragic fate with a lot of courage.

Again Flanna reaches her hand into the girls ball and grabs the first slip of paper she can find. "Justine Maskar!" I don't know her but nevertheless it's still sad that she has to participate in the Capitols cruel Games. Her delicate looking face is frozen with terror and a woman – who I assume is her mother – lets out a shriek while she walks up to the stage. Instinctively she runs up to her daughter and throws her arms around her and weeps but the Peacekeepers drag her away from her petrified little girl who only looks about 12. The audience doesn't really like it when someone so young gets chosen at the reaping, usually people between 14-17 are chosen but every now and then you get the oddball of course. She has the same grey eyes and olive skin from the Seam. Her dark brown hair falls to her shoulders, my heart sinks as the next few days are going to be a fancy lead up to her death and all her friends and family will have to watch. Flanna is now choosing the last tribute from the boys enormous glass reaping ball. "Haymitch Abernathy!" My heart skips a beat and the world around me slows down. What? This isn't right. I can't seem to take in what has just happened here. I will my feet to move but they won't budge. My life is over, this isn't supposed to be happening, What? A thousand thoughts and questions and everything else is going through my mind. Will I come home? Why did they pick my name? How could they get mine I have hardly any names in the ball? The list is endless. I can't be sure whether I have been standing here for a few minutes or a few seconds. _Breathe, _I think to myself, _ be strong, don't let anyone see you weak. _I walk up to the stage where Flanna, the Mayor of District 12 and my soon to be mentor are sitting. My hands are clenched into fists at my sides and the big screen behind me shows a closeup of my face. _Good, let them see I won't go down without a fight_. Flanna stands and addresses the audience, "Well, Ladies and Gentlemen of District 12, can we get a round of applause for the this years tributes! I have a good feeling about the tributes this year!" At this moment I resent everybody on this stage, everybody in the Capitol and all the Peacekeepers. They don't really keep much peace if they are letting teenagers leave the district to fight teenagers from other districts to the death. Today just keeps getting better and better. I am lead by a group of Peacekeepers to the Justice Building and I get told that I have 1 hour to say goodbye to anyone who shows up, but I'm not expecting anyone. While I wait for the hour to be over I take in my surroundings, I notice how unbelievably expensive this room must be. The soft, deep red velvet couch that I sit on now must be worth a lot, the golden clock is so beautiful that I just keep staring at – it's showing that I still have half an hour to wait – is beautifully decorated with delicate chimes that hang from the bottom of the clock. I'm still looking at it when I hear the heavy wooden doors creaking only to find my little brother shuffling in, his eyes only meeting mine once he reaches the red velvet couch I'm sitting on. I never thought I would see him again. I didn't even think that my parents would even let him come and see me. I thought they would be happy that I got chosen as a tribute – they probably are. My 6 year old brother Greyson looks into my eyes and begins to sob. My heart is slowly deteriorating, bit by bit. I never considered he might actually love me seeing as though my parents left me at the community home and kept him. I hold my arms out to him just as he flings himself into my chest. I caress the side of his face and try to imagine how nice this moment would be without the fact that I'm being sent off to die. I release the tense muscles in my throat and let out a choke. But the peacekeepers summon him and he slowly rises and before the door closes I hear his soft little child voice say, "I love you Haymitch" I think I made it in time when I say, " I love you too Greyson."

The golden clock now shows that my time is up. So much for saying goodbye to my loved ones. More like loved one, I didn't even know he was one until just now. I still can't shake Greyson's warmth that he spread through my body. _He _is my inspiration now. I will win. Hopefully I don't die first.


End file.
